


Where We'll Go

by aeriamamaduck



Series: Dragon Age II [7]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Blue-Purple Hawke, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriamamaduck/pseuds/aeriamamaduck
Summary: Garrett wants the night to go perfectly, but his aching head insists otherwise.





	

_“Foolish boy. Whatever’s passed between you two, Fenris is still mine.”_

Danarius’s taunt still resided in Garrett’s mind like a thorn, though three months had passed since that day in the Hanged Man. He could hear the oil drip from the magister’s voice, filling him with such revulsion as he tried to break through his magical barrier and sink his knife into that smug face. 

Thumbing the ring, Garrett closed his eyes and tried his best to dispel the stinging pain gathering in his temples. This couldn’t happen. Not now when it was so important he remain in his right mind. Yet there it was, sharp and undeniable. He took a breath, wincing when his head throbbed, and opened his eyes again to the painful light coming from the fireplace. Fenris sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of it, bent over a book propped open with the incomplete wooden mabari Malcolm once carved.

Garrett could hear Fenris quietly read to himself as he descended the stairs, his heart aching with how much he loved him. Too bad his head ached just as badly.

 _Andraste’s blood, look at his arms._ His stomach fluttered and tightened at the sight of those bare arms, lyrium lines crossing over the skin almost like a caress rather than the source of pain they actually were. To look at Fenris now, one would be unable to tell that he suffered any pain. He looked relaxed, and perhaps he was. It made Garrett happy.

Blinking the pain-induced moisture out of his eyes, Garrett lowered himself to sit beside Fenris, who acknowledged him with a low hum as he continued reading. Garrett smiled as he watched him read, those vivid green eyes bright with interest as they moved across the pages and devoured every word.

“Varric’s getting better,” the elf finally said.

Garrett glanced at the book, surprised. “Oh. I forgot that was one of his. Is it the one about the witch who falls in love with a werewolf?”

“It’s the sequel: the witch and the werewolf now have six children.”

“Now _that_ is plucky. You’ve definitely got reading mastered,” Garrett said with a proud smile.

Fenris gave a dry chuckle as he marked his place on the page and closed the book. “Now if only we could say the same about my handwriting.”

“Your handwriting’s fine!”

“It’s childish.”

“Okay, then we’ll tackle calligraphy next.”

The fond smile Fenris gave him was completely devastating, and it more than made up for the horrid ringing in his head. His heart pounding and his stomach flipping, Garrett swallowed and decided it was now or never. Still playing with the ring, Garrett took a steadying breath. “Can we talk?”

Fenris’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, it’s just…” He ran a clammy hand through his hair. “Maker, how do I even…? I was going to rehearse, but then I thought ‘sod it, I’ll speak from the heart,’ but now…”

That look of concern and confusion on Fenris’s face wasn’t helping matters either, but Garrett decided not to voice that opinion. He was starting to rethink the idea. Glancing at Fenris’s throat, he remembered what his lover had told him of the slave collar he’d been forced to wear. Would he consider this something similar?

“Garrett, what is it?”

Too late. If he backed off, his behavior would still hang between them like dirty laundry. Wishing he’d just lain down on the couch and attempted to quietly fall asleep, Garrett _tried_ to look at Fenris when he spoke. “…When we got back together, you said you’d be at my side, whatever came. I believe that. I…believe in you. I always have.”

Maker, had his voice ever shaken so hard? _Yes, when you apologized to Bela for kissing her. But you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing other people right now._

He reached out for Fenris’s hand, just blanketing it with his and hoping it was as soothing a motion as he thought it was. Fenris was beginning to trust his touch, and he never wanted to lose that trust again. “I realize I’ve been a complete and utter fuckup at times. I’ve said and done stupid things when I didn’t know better, and I almost lost you for it. I’ve known you five years and in that time I’ve realized I’ll probably never love anyone the way I love you.”

He finally brought the iron ring into view and showed it to Fenris, whose eyes widened slightly as they focused on the ring. Garrett tried to continue, but his voice failed him and he could only manage the tiniest noise at the back of his throat.

Fenris asked softly, peering up at him from beneath that fringe of white hair, “…Are you… _proposing?_ ”

Garrett let out a breathless, nervous chuckle as he felt his cheeks heat up. “O-oh, um…It…It isn’t a proper ring, or anything, I mean…I know you wouldn’t want anything _too_ fancy, but I felt that th-th-the occasion called for an actual ring in my hand, even if the spells and junk on it wear off and make it completely useless in about two months’ time, but anyway…I-it’s very hot in here, isn’t it?”

To his intense surprise and slight discomfiture, the corner of Fenris’s mouth turned up in a smirk that lasted two seconds. He then reached up to take the ring between his thumb and index finger and looked at it with a hint of uncertainty that made Garrett’s heart and stomach clench. Finally he said, “…The Chantry would never agree to…”

Swallowing thickly, Garrett rapidly said, “It may not count in the eyes of the Chantry, but it could count for us and our friends. In fact, just for us. Forget our friends.” He breathed hard and raised a trembling hand to stroke Fenris’s soft hair. “…It’s not a guarantee or anything. I’m not asking you to…to be just _mine_. Never that. Fenris…I just want to ask…” He paused and took a breath, not wanting his voice to fail him. “…Will you stay _with_ me for the rest of our lives?”

Fenris gazed at him for what seemed an eternity, a tiny crease between his eyebrows as he thumbed the ring. Between his aching head and tight chest, Garrett was certain he would die if Fenris didn’t say something soon.

Thankfully it seemed the Maker wasn’t eager to summon him, because Fenris removed one of the older rings on his fingers (something that provided more protection, Garrett recalled) and replaced it with the new one.

The elf wore a small smile that made Garrett’s stomach unfurl and turned his palm up to properly hold Garrett’s hand. “I am yours,” Fenris said breathily as he looked at Garrett.

The human squeezed that strong hand, feeling as though he could take flight. “You’re your own. I’m just the dope privileged enough to know you.”

Fenris gave him a level stare. “I do not say that lightly. I choose, of my own free will, to be with you. It is a choice I wish I had made years ago.”

“Oh, love…” Garrett would have shaken his head, but then it would have exploded. “That was my fault. Not yours, never yours.”

“Regardless of who is to blame, my answer is still yes.” Fenris then leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his lips. “This way I would be perfectly within my rights to gut that mage if he so much as casts an undue glance in your direction.”

Garrett chuckled and leaned his forehead against Fenris’s, closing his eyes as his body thrummed with anticipation when Fenris’s hand stroked up his chest towards his throat.

Unfortunately his head continued to throb even as Fenris kissed the side of his neck. _Maker’s balls._ It just had to be one of those nights? “Um…Fenris, love?” He gave an involuntary shudder when the elf hummed in reply against the spot beneath his ear. “Could we, uh…just lay in bed? Quietly?”

Fenris pulled back and looked at him with concern. Garrett hastily explained, “It’s nothing you’ve done, it’s just…my head feels like there’s a blacksmith inside it, banging away.”

Giving him a sympathetic look, Fenris gave his scalp a gentle stroke and smiled in understanding. “As you wish. Shall we go right now?”

Garrett leaned into that touch gratefully. “Carry me?”

“…”

“Mm?”

“Make a habit of it, and I’ll leave your bed cold for a month.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
